Commitments (26 page)

would give her access to a broad range of resources. Between that and use of the library at Dartmouth - which was less than forty-five minutes away - she hoped that by the time Derek was released, she'd have a full dossier to present to him. By the middle of September, Derek was discouraged. It had been'nearly two months since he'd seen Sabrina, and there were times when he wondered if she was real. Sure, he had her letters. He read them so many times that he could replay them in their entirety in his mind's eye. But it wasn't the same. She wrote that she'd moved into the farmhouse, but he'd never seen the farmhouse, so he couldn'i picture her there. She wrote that she was literally camping out on the bedroom floor, that she was still without lights and a stove, that she'd picked up poison ivy in the woods - and he couldn't imagine any of it because he'd never seen her wearing anything but a skirt!

Letters couldn't take the place of flesh and blood, and that was what he craved - flesh and blood, warmth, smiles, the kind of sunshine that could light him up inside, the kind only Sabrina produced. His everyday life had fallen back into the same W tedious existence held known before Page 95

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she first came to Parkersville. There were no visits to look forward to. One day dragged into the next. There was no one to bring him from a sour mood, no one to diffuse Ins anger or offset his frustration. His running helped some, as did the sight of his calendar with more and more Xs and fewer and fewer blank spaces. But without Sabrina's letters - real or not - he'd surely have gone mad, because she signed each with her love, and he needed that. At the beginning of October, Sabrina wrote that her family had descended on the farmhouse. ' three of them, all the way from the Coast, totally without warning! I was sitting on the floor of the front porch, filthy and exhausted after a day sanding woodwork, when a honking car barreled in. It seems that they'd conspired at the last minute to see for themselves where I was "hiding away" (their te not mine). It's - . rm, actually a miracle they made it in one piece. My dad is a terror behind the wheel (horses are more his style), but he'd insisted on driving the rental from Boston. My mother was furious with him by the time they got here, and J.B. was as pale as a ghost 1poetic justice there). ' had honestly thought I'd reached the point of not feeling in a state of crisis. Then they showed up. They do something to me, Derek - stir me up, put me right on the defensive, make me feel inadequate. If it wasn't Mom telling me that I couldn't possibly live so far from civilization, it was Dad telling me that the plasterer was using the wrong mix on the ceilings. Thank God, J.B. didn't say much. He just kind of stared at everything, then went out back to the barn and stared at that., 264 She didn't write that - later that night, when they'd been having dinner at an inn in nearby Grafton, where Amanda had insisted they all spend the night - J.B. had made a point of asking about Derek. Sabrina hadn't previously mentioned him to either of her parents, but her brother gladly filled them in on what they'd missed. Amanda and Gebhart both felt that Derek's story, when fictionalized, could be a hit. But Sabrina had no intention of fictionalizing anything. And in that spirit, she took them to the Greenhouse the following day to visit Nicky. She did write to Derek about that. ' was a mistake, Derek, an awful mistake. I never should have taken them there. They said that they wanted to see their grandson, and since I'd spoken of the Greenhouse only in glowing terms, I had no choice. But no amount of glowing terms can disguise a home for the handicapped. My mother grew very pale and very quiet. Worse, my father, who has it macho thing about control, seemed to crumble inside. 1. B. was surprisingly good probably because Mom and Dad were both so clearly upset. He carried Nicky while we took a tour of the grounds, then played with him a little. Nicky was himself. He is as beautiful as ever, but the bigger he gets, the more noticeable the discrepancy between his physical age and his mental age. It was very hard for my parents to see. And for me." Derek's heart went out to her when he read that. He'd always felt a soft spot when it came to Nicky, perhaps from the time so long ago when he'd held the child. He'd always felt Sabrina's pain, More than anything he'd have wanted to be with her then. Then again, he wasn't sure he wanted to be with her family. When he thought of them, he felt out of place. 265

He came from a very different sort than they were. His life experiences had been altogether different. He wouldn't fit in. Especially now. He was a convict, and the countdown had begun. Word had spread that the parole board would be hearing cases at Pine Island on the ninth and tenth of November. With little more than a month until then, tension was up throughout the prison. Derek felt it as keenly as he ever had, because this time his own future was on the line. During daytime lockup, he would sit against the cinder-block wall of his cell and wonder where he'd be in five weeks from then. At night he would lie on his cot, stare at the ceiling and know that he wanted to be with Sabrina. David was sure that his release was a safe bet. Derek had learned not to bet on a Page 96

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thing. By the middle of October, Sabrina was able to write that the farmhouse was nearly livable. ' haven't begun on the decorating, but the dusty work is almost done, and once that's finished, I'm home free. My kitchen is already functional. One more bathtub has to go in, but other than that the plumbing's done. I can't wait till you see itv She agonized over that last sentence. Not once, either during her, visits to Parkersville or in the letters they'd exchanged since, had Derek committed himself to any post-release plans. She knew that he feared the release wouldn't come, and she feared it too, but she needed to be hopeful and, therefore, she dreamed. She wanted to believe that he loved her. She did believe it when she thought back to the way he'd been during their last few visits - and he wrote the words in 266 letter but it wasn't the same as having him re with her, being taken in his arms and hearing the s whispered with the force of their meaning. The problem was that other than his love, she didn't ' what she wanted from him. She knew she loved and that meant she wanted to be with him, but N ere and on what kind of basis was unclear. She had of her own. He had needs of his own. Whether ,,the two could mesh was anyone's gvess.

"Nicky is having seizures more frequently/ she wrote. ' Greens aren't alarmed, but they suggested 4hat I may want to take him back to his regular doctor for an evaluation at some point. I think they're right, though I don't look forward to the trip. ' a lighter note, my friend Maura was up to visit this week. She said that she wouldn't believe I was living on a farm until she saw it. I tried to explain that I'm not living on a farm, per se, just living in a farmhouse,,but she took one look at the bam and decided that I should raise sheep, then spin their wool into gold.' Maura had actually said that in disgust, when Sabrina had been evasive about Derek. Maura made no secret about wanting her to write, and, in fact, Sabrina had several ideas for articles she was toying with, but Maura had her mind set. She wanted Derek's book. Since Sabrina had no intention of mentioning the book to Derek when he had so much else on his mind, she put Maura off its best she could. By the end of October, letter writing was growing harder. Sabrina could tell Derek that she'd just finished papering the bathrooms, that the autumn foliage was breathtaking from her front porch or that she'd met an interesting pair of transplants from New York who had @ 1 267 opened a nearby inn, but she knew that his thoughts were on far more consequential things. As were hers. She enjoyed the work she did. It exhausted her in a satisfied way, giving her something to show for her time. And the exhaustion helped at night, when pangs of loneliness could be swept under the carpet of sleep. The mornings were tougher. Dawn. Shortly after dawn when -she awakened with the sun, feeling refreshed, wanting him. For someone who had never defined herself in sexual terms, it was an awakening in more ways than one. Derek, on the other hand, hadn't needed any kind of awakening. He'd been wanting Sabrina for months. On more nights than he cared to count, he had suffered the pain of arousal, but that pain told only half the story. His longing encompassed everything she was, and became so strong as November approached that there were times when he bolted up from a doze in a cold sweat to find that fear and longing, even in his semiconscious mind, had combined to produce panic. lie couldn't write Sabrina about that. True, he'd told her many times that he loved her, but he didn't want to sound totally obsessed. He didn't want even to think that himself, because he'd never been a man of obsession. Determination, perhaps, and ambition, but never obsession. He knew that he loved Sabrina, knew that it was strong, but he wondered whether his feelings were magnified by the situation. He couldn't write that to Sabrina, either. What could he tell her? That he was seared?

That he was strung as tight as he'd been at any point during his Page 97

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incarceration? That he walked die corridors of the prison with an eye for every shadow, constantly on guard lest someone make a last attempt to trip him up? 268 I He couldn't tell her that he rarely slept at night, that -too many thoughts plagued his mind - thoughts and 1ears and dreams that were as intricately connected and as fragile as a house of cards. And so he who had hated writing from the start but -had come so far wasn't able to scrawl much more than the briefest of responses to Sabrina's letters. He bottled everything in, and grew more tense. His daily run did '.'little for the cramping muscles in his shoulder or the clenching muscles in his jaw. Nothing could help, he feared, but release. Eventually, in the name of emotional survival, he out all else but the thought of his parole. He Aidn't think about what held do when he was released. He didn't think about Noel Greer and revenge. And he didn't think about Sabrina. The only thing that mattered was getting out. just getting out. On November ninth, the parole board interviewed twenty-two men whose parole eligibility was forthcoming. Seven were granted parole, fifteen were denied it, and word spread through Pine Island that things were tough. As fate would have it, Derek wasn't called before the board until November tenth. Of the sixteen inmates interviewed that day, nine were approved and seven deferred. Derek was one of the nine.

Chapter 11.

On the fifteenth of November at seven in

the morning, Derek left Pine Island and returned to the mainland a free man. As they'd arranged, he was met by David, who had driven Derek's Saab from New York the night before. The two men talked over breakfast.

"How do you feel?' "Tired/ Derek said because it was the first thing that came to mind. He hadn't slept in two days, hadn't reafly slept in far longer than that. ' little numb/ he added, casting a glance around the modest coffee shop where at his own request they'd stopped. '

little incredulous. A little skeptical.' David felt a little sad, because Derek's response illustrated the toll the past two years had taken. Derek had always been a positive man, but his faith in the positive had been badly shaken. ' about excited?'David asked, giving him a push in the right direction. Derek smiled. ''ll come once the numbness wears off.' The smile faded as he stole another dart@ing glance around the shop. Then he looked down at his half-eaten Belgian waffle, then, in more surreptitious glances, at the jeans and shirt he wore. The jeans were faded Calvins, the shirt a plaid number with a similar label. They were his, taken from his closet and forwarded on by David in anticipation of his release. They didn't fit as well as they once had.

"Do I look funny?' ' course not.' 270 11 feel it. I feel like those people can tell right off just ere I've been. I should have told you not to send David arched a brow. ' friend, there wasn't a hell a lot of a casual nature in your closet but jeans. I It think you'd want to travel in a blazer and slacks, 4c a suit or a tux.' Derek was silent. Lifting his fork and knife, he carefully cut off another piece of thewaffle. After he'd swallowed it, he said, ''ll have to shop when I get back to New York.' ' are you headed now?' Putting down the fork and knife, Derek dropped his S, pressed his palms to his thighs. ' the airport drop you off so you can catch a shuttle home. I y appreciate this, David. The thought of being ed in an airplane didn't appeal to me.'He paused. e thought of being confined anywhere didn't appeal me. Doesn't. This way I can take my time, stop and t out when I want, roll down the windows and athe fresh air.'He jumped a little when the waitress

"suddenly appeared at his elbow with refills of coffee. @.When she left, Page 98

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he asked, ' you sure you won't drive back with me?' q don't drive in no forty-degree weather with the windows down/ David drawled,* then added, ' besides, I have to be back for a hearing at eleven.' He scratched his cheek. ' tell you the truth, I thought you'd be heading to Vermont., Derek raised his coffee cup, took a careful sip, set the cup down. He wiped his upper hp with his lower one. His eyes went to those of his lawyer and friend. ' you call her? I ' after you called me.' Which had been on the 271 tenth, several hours after Derek had learned that he'd been granted parole. ' did she say? '

at first. It took me a while to figure out she was crying.' Derek squeezed his eyes shut and sucked in a shaky breath. ' did that to me once, too.' It was a minute before he opened his eyes. ''s a special lady., '. So why aren't you driving up to see her?' Derek had been asking himself the same question for the last four days. ' need distance. I need distance between me and' - he tossed his head in the vague direction of the harbor - ' place before I go to her. I need to feel a little more human. I need a good night's sleep. I need to know I can get one without jerking up in a panicky sweat.' He took another shaky breath. ''s been a fucking lousy few weeks.' ''s been a fucking lousy few years.' Having no argument with that, Derek cut off another piece of waffle and nudged it idly around his plate. Vhat's the latest on Greer?' ''s running. He'll probably announce it right after the, first of the year.' ' you think he'll be watching what I do?"